


Spare A Moment For Me

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2017-12-29 18:56:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak's father owns a local church, which means that instead of going out drinking with the guys, Castiel spends his Friday nights going door-to-door, spreading the word of Jesus Christ.  Dean Winchester's father doesn't own much other than his car.  And from the moment Castiel knocks on Dean's door, their worlds are never going to be quite the same again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Castiel Novak didn't like the poorer neighbourhoods. They were just so different from his suburban home, with its white picket fences and garden gnomes... The only fences here were chain link, and most had "beware of dog" signs stuck to them. Castiel clutched his pamphlets and bible tighter to his chest. The sun wasn't due to go down for another half hour, and he only had three houses left. He could still make it home before dark.

The first house he walked up to was the nicest of the three - nice, that was, in comparison. None of the windows were boarded up and a flower pot with a single petunia sat on the rickety porch. The doorbell seemed to work, at least, so he rang it, and waited. There was a sound of a deadbolt sliding and the door opened a crack. Castiel could smell cigarette smoke and hear a television blaring. He saw a sliver of a short, red headed woman with wide brown eyes through the crack and began the speech he had delivered so many times before.

"Good evening madam, I'm sorry to interrupt, but I'm here on behalf of St Micheal's Church, and was wondering if you had a moment to spare to talk about our lord and saviour, Je-"

"Jeeeeeeesus Chriiiiiiiiiist." The woman drawled out, and took a drag of her cigarrette. "I ain't got time for that. Get off my porch, boy." The door slammed.

Castiel sighed. He was used to that kind of response by now, and he refused to let it get him down. He had been going door-to-door like this for three years now, since he had started tenth grade at Lawrence High School. Since then, Castiel admitted it had become less about being devoted to his father's Church, as it was about avoiding his father and brothers at home. There wasn't much else for him to do in town, and this at least kept his mind off ...other things. So Castiel shook off the woman's indifference, and made his way back to the sidewalk, and toward the next house. 

This one was in an even worse state of repair. The only sign that told Castiel someone must be living there was the old black Chevy Impala that was parked half on the street, half on the lawn. Castiel gathered himself again, straightening his blue tie, getting ready for another shut-down. As he walked up the path to the front door, he noticed that the screen door was torn and hanging off its hinges. He put his fist through what remained the screen door and knocked directly on the wooden one behind it, assuming the doorbell wasn't in working order. Minutes passed, and Castiel thought he could hear angry voices inside. Figuring no one was coming to answer, he turned his back, pausing only to put a pamphlet in the rusted little mailbox that sat on the side of the porch handle. Just as he was stepping back onto the sidewalk, a voice called him back.

"Hey, you can take this back. I don't want it."

Castiel turned. A boy, no older than he was, was standing on the porch holding the pamphlet he had left.

"Yeah, you."

Not knowing what else to do, Castiel rushed back to the door, grabbed the pamphlet and muttered, "sorry, sir, I didn't mean to offend. I'm only-"

"Hey, I don't really care what you're doing. And don't call me sir."

Up close, Castiel could see the boy had sandy blond hair, and his faces was covered in freckles. On top of that, he seemed to have the greenest eyes Castiel had ever seen. 

Suddenly extremely ashamed for doing his job, Castiel stared at his feet while he spoke. "If you have a moment, I'm supposed to ask you if you'd like to talk about our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ."

"I don't got a moment."

Feeling a little dejected, Castiel let his eyes flicker up to the boy's face before falling back to his feet. "Thank you for your time."

Castiel turned again, and had begun walking away when he heard the boy mumble something else. Against all better judgement, Castiel looked back. 'What happened to getting home fast?' he thought.

"What?"

The boy was back inside, about to slam the door when he saw Castiel was still standing there, staring at him.

"I though you said something. I'm sorry."

"I said, 'Jesus hasn't done shit for me,' now get out of here 'fore someone kicks your ass." He slammed the door and with one final glance back, Castiel started making his way   
down the street, skipping the last house entirely. 

*

He didn't know why the boy's words had gotten under his skin so easily, or why he couldn't stop thinking about it, even when he arrived back at his own home. Even over the sound of his older brothers, Lucifer and Gabriel, having a yelling match, the words the boy had mumbled, "Jesus hasn't done shit for me," echoed through his mind. Maybe there was some deep-seated psychological reasoning behind the whole thing, but while Castiel lay awake in bed that night, trying to block out the shouting match in the living room, he realized two things: one, that he couldn't think of one damn thing that Jesus had ever done him. And two, that before he had lay downn to sleep, for the first time in his life, he hadn't prayed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's something about nearly getting run over that really helps strike up a conversation, isn't there?

Dean woke abruptly to the sound of quiet sobbing. Swearing under his breath, he glanced at the glowing alarm clock on the bedside table. 1:32 AM.

"Sammy?" He whispered into the dark. There was a sniffle and Dean felt his bed become weighed down as his little brother climed up to snuggle with him. 

Sam was eleven already, but he was still a big baby sometimes - not that Dean blamed him. If he had the luxury, hell, he would go back to army men and legos any day. Of course, that wasn't an option, so instead Dean contented himself with wrapping Sam in his blanket and quietly humming Hey Jude like his mom used to do for him, until Sam's shivering stopped and he dropped off to sleep. Dean hadn't even thought to ask if it was a bad dream. Monsters again, probably. And it didn't help that instead of doing what any normal father is supposed to, and tell the kid monsters ain't real. No, John Winchester just called Sam stupid before he cracked open another beer. Dean had these kind of recurring, bitter thoughts almost every night now, but had learned quickly to keep them to himself. Hard to explain a black eye to a teacher who doesn't know shit about the kind of stuff Dean had to live with. Fighting again, they think. Well god damn, what Dean would give to stop.

Teachers. Shit, it was Sunday... no, Monday now. School in the morning. He'd be up in a few hours, packing a lunch (if you could call it that) for Sam and dropping him off before leaving to his own school. Lawrence High wasn't exactly heaven-on-earth, but it was a refuge from what went on at home, and if he was being honest, he just wanted Sammy to hurry up and switch schools so he could keep a closer eye on the kid during the day. The rest of his thoughts were more incoherent as he nodded off again, only to be awoken what seemed like moments later by his radio alarm clock, the station it was tuned to blasting some old Kansas song.

By the time Dean had reached his school, it was 9:30, and he was late. He pulled into the student parking lot and, figuring a few more minutes wouldn't hurt, sang along to the rest of Thunderstruck before turning off the Impala's engine and heading inside.

Dean was just crossing at the crosswalk to the main enterence when a cherry red Camaro nearly ran him down. The driver hit the horn and the brakes at the same time, and screeched to a stop inches from Dean, who was making for the drivers' side window, ready to pick a fight.

"Get on, you're late already. So am I."

The window was rolled down and a guy in his early 20s' sat in the drivers' seat, brown hair pushed back, and wearing a pair of aviators. He had what looked like a candy cigarette clenched in his teeth. Sitting beside him was a kid, Dean's age. Kinda scrawny, with black hair. He was wearing a tie and-

"Problem, bucko?"

"Gabriel, don't-" The passenger pleaded.

"Hold on Cassie, Gabe's got this one." Gabriel leaned out the window. "Look, my expert driving saved your life. So don't get your panties in a bunch 'cuz you didn't look before you crossed the street."

Dean glared at him. What a douchebag.

Gabriel took the candy cigarette out of his mouth. "Now get outta here. You too, Castiel. And you can walk home."

Castiel sighed and pulled his backpack on before getting out of the car. Gabriel slammed the gas and peeled away, bombing around the corner of the street. Dean stood looking after him, fists clenched.

"I'm sorry." Castiel was looking down at his feet, and Dean couldn't help but think he recognized the kid. "My brother is kind of..."

"A total dick?" Dean offered. Castiel smiled slightly, though it didn't reach his eyes. Then he realized where he had seen him before.

"You're that guy who came to my house last night, aren't you?"

Castiel looked down again, and nodded.

"I'm not mad. You just caught me at a bad time, okay? Nothing personal..." Dean wasn't quite sure what to call him.

"Cas. Call me Cas."

"I'm Dean."

They stood silently for a moment, not quite wanting to move off the street for lack of knowing whether to part ways or not.

"I didn't know you went to school here." Dean said finally.

"Not many people know me. They just know I'm Gabriel's little brother."

"Must suck having him for a brother." Dean said. He couldn't imagine being such a jerk to Sam.

"I try not to think about it. I know he can be a good person."

Dean laughed dryly. "Right, sure. I'll give him the benefit of the doubt for now. Tell me you at least got someone else at home for you?"

Castiel hesitated, and for a moment Dean had worried that he'd gotten a little too personal for a guy he'd just met. "I've got another brother, Lucifer. It's the three boys, my little sister Anna, and our dad."

He didn't sound too happy about them. "For me, I got a little brother, Sam. It's us, and dad. Kind of. Mostly it's just the two of us."

"Your father works a lot, too?"

Dean snorted. "Like hell he's working. Unless drinking is professional now."

"I'm sorry." Castiel murmered. They were slowly making their way toward the front doors now, just reaching the bottom of the steps.

"You gotta stop doing that, man."

"Doing... what?"

"Apologizing for everything. It's kinda wimpy y'know."

"I'm-" Cas caught himself just in time, winching slightly. At home he was so used to apologizing profusely for every little thing. It felt very different to not say it - almost freeing.

"You'll get there." Dean shrugged, holding open the door. "What class you got now?"

"AP English."

"I sure as hell don't. But I'll see you around, Cas. Right?"

Cas took a moment to deliberate. No one had ever said they'd see him around before... What was he supposed to say to that?

"I will see you around as well, Dean."

Dean raised an eyebrow at the response, but shrugged it off. "Sure." He said as he was walking away. Cas didn't move for a few more minutes. Just stood in the front entrance of the school staring at Dean's back as it retreated. He had never been one to be sociable, but, dare he say it? Castiel felt that despite the strange encounter the previous night, despite his brother's near running Dean over, perhaps, for the first time in his life, he had made a friend.

*

Dean skipped most of his classes that day, spent his lunch period with Jo and Ash - the kids who lived a couple streets down from him. Ellen Harvelle was Jo's mom, and she had adopted Ash, or something. The guy was a genius, but a total slacker, and to be honest, Dean wasn't quite sure what his story was, apart from his sleeping on Jo's couch. Because he prefered to be at home with Sam, Dean didn't really pick up any extracurriculars, which meant he was a little lacking in the friends department. Not that these guys weren't cool, they were. They talked about all sorts of stuff, and let Dean complain about his dad whenever he needed to vent. But today they just couldn't hold his interest. Not with Cas on his mind. Why he was thinking so hard about the kid was beyond him. There was something about Cas though, that reminded him of himself. And he pitied the guy for having such a shit family (definately empathy there). 

"Dean what's on your mind? You seem more stoic than usual." Jo asked. Her voice was faint, competing against Dean's thoughts.

"Just stuff. No big deal. You think the cafeteria's got pie today?" Dean asked.

"Oh, fine. Change the subject if you want, Mister Avoidance."

Ash scoffed. Dean shot a glare at him. Great, now not only was he inexplicably obsessed with some boy he had just met, but his friends were suspicios and he was being bitter. 'This is why you never socialize, Dean. Screws up your head.' But despite his own warnings to himself about getting too carried away with helping out Cas (was that what he thought he was doing, helping him?), Dean made a consious choice to stand on the steps to the school at three thirty for a few extra minutes, keeping a close eye out for Cas.

Finally, just as he was about to give up and just go get Sam, Dean spotted him. He made a small wave and Cas walked over hurridley.

"I have to walk home now, Dean, I can't talk."

Without a second thought, Dean replied. "I'll drive you. Just have to pick up my brother on the way if that's okay with you."

Cas's face lit up. "Thank you!" He smiled. God, Dean wished he knew more people who smiled.

"Come on, Baby's just in the lot." Dean said, fishing his keys out of his pocket.

"Baby?" Cas tilted his head to the side.

"It's just... that's what I call my car."

When they reached the Impala, Dean got in and leaned across the bench seat to open Cas's door from inside. He bent down and got in, pulling the seatbelt across his chest. Dean started the engine, and the radio blasted on, making Cas jump. Dean laughed and turned it down. 

'What, you don't like Metallica?"

Cas shrugged, hoping his heart rate would decrease soon.

"Alright, no music. I'll swing by, get Sammy. But you're gonna have to give me directions from there."

Cas nodded. His heart rate wasn't going down at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I deliberated for a while about where to end this one, but decided to just keep in the end bit.
> 
> Writing douchey Gabriel is fun, since I'm so used to Sabriel fluff style Gabe~ I'm thinking of adding a little more of him later, and certainly introducing Luci.
> 
> As for point of view, it should generally just be alternating, maybe with some fillers here and there... I'll try my bestest to keep it relatively consistent.
> 
> To everyone here from tumblr, hello! Thanks for checking the fic out, hopefully it will be something awesome enough for you to stick with.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a first time for everything. Certain foods, certain thoughts. And Dean gives Cas some (pardon me,) food for thought.

Neither of the boys said anything to each other on the way to pick up Sam, and when Dean's little brother crawled into the backseat fifteen minutes later, the only thing Sam asked was if Dean had anything extra to eat with him.

"Nah, but I can swing by for some burgers after I drop off Cas, if you want."

"Who's Cas?" Sam asked, even though he could easily see the guy sitting shotgun must have been him. Shotgun Cas turned around to greet Sam with an outstreached hand. Sam took it and shook.

"I'm Castiel. I'm a friend of your brother's."

Cas mentally questioned himself, hoping that it was really okay to be calling Dean a friend after only knowing him a day. No one protested the description however, and Cas turned back to face foreward as Dean pulled out of the middle school parking lot.

"So where am I taking you, Cas?"

"Just down the main street here, then a left onto Sycamore. I live at the corner, by the-"

Cas stopped giving directions momentarily, as Sam leaned forward to poke at the radio dials. Dean slapped his hand away and said, "Sammy, you know the rules."

Sam flopped back into the backseat and groaned. "Driver picks the music."

"That's right. Now where'd you say you live at?" Dean asked, turning his attention back to Cas.

"Corner of Sycamore. By the playground."

*

Dean's driving was daredevilish to say the least. Cas found himself gripping the seat even tighter than when Gabriel drove, as Dean wound in and out of the lane, speeding around the other cars and hitting the gas extremely hard to make a yellow light twenty feet in front of them. It also meant they reached Cas's house a little sooner than he had hoped. From the outside, it didn't look that bad. White siding and a green shingled roof and matching dark green door. A manicured lawn and small flower bed with one of those miniature scarecrows. The picture-perfect outside though, did nothing to mask the fact that inside the house was more or less a hellhole. Lucifer's second floor window was open, and even with all the impala's windows rolled up, Cas could hear the bassline of a song pounding. Gabriel's camaro was parked on the driveway, blocking Dean (or anyone else) from pulling up onto it. Dean stopped at the curb and turned off the engine, looking at Cas.

"See ya."

Cas looked out the window, and then back to Dean. He thought about just getting out, running into his house, grabbing his pamphlets and going for a walk, but clouds were moving in and it called for rain. He didn't want to get caught in it. Then again, he didn't much want to get caught between another brotherly argument, either.

"Dean," He finally said, wrinkling his brow and pulling at his tie, "would you mind if I went with you and your brother for burgers instead?"

Cas braced himself for Dean to become angry at Cas dragging him out of his way, but it never came. Instead, Dean turned around to face Sam in the backseat.

"It alright if he tags along?"

Sam nodded, and Dean started up the engine again. "'S alright then. I think I get where you're coming from."

"How could you? Sam's so quiet." Cas almost laughed. He had never seen a kid so well behaved. He remembered Gabriel at that age - bratty and demanding. Not that he wasn't anything but that now.

Dean rolled his eyes. "You should hear him go on about some shit. Harry Potter, or whatever."

"You like those movies too, Dean." Sam said indignantly.

"Dude, Hermione's hot."

Sam made a face at his brother, and while Cas looked out the window and let them banter, he couldn't help but feel a fleeting moment of jealousy. He was pulled quickly out of the thought, however, when he heard Dean say his name.

"...Cas?"

"Huh?" His head snapped around. Dean was staring at him.

"Tunes, Cas? What station do you like?"

It took Cas a moment to remember just what music he did like to listen too. Focusing was hard when Dean was staring at him with those bright green eyes of his. It was almost...

"My dad usually plays K LOVE, but I..." Cas found himself saying. Dean shook his head and let his hand fall from where it was hovering over the radio dial.

"I didn't ask what your dad liked."

Cas looked momentarily taken aback. He was confused for one thing, and almost shocked that he was only just realising he wasn't even quite sure what kind of music he liked. 

When the silence had streached out to a point that Castiel was starting to consider uncomfortable, Dean shook his head again and said, "classic rock it is. Maybe I'll lend you some CDs, see if we can find you something YOU like."

For the rest of the ride, Sam whined about how Dean was going to let Cas pick the music even though he wasn't allowed to. Cas listened quietly to the boys argue, watching dark and heavy rainclouds gather out the window as they drove out of the residential area and back onto the main road. By the time they had finally reached what Dean declared his favourite burger joint in the city, the music was blasting almost as loud as Lucifer would play his at home, but it seemed friendlier here, paired with Dean's joking shouts of, "I can't hear you, the music's too loud," and Sam's giggled, "turn it DOWN!"s. Dean pulled into a parking space and cut the engine. 

"Sorry." He said. Cas looked up.

"Don't worry about it, Dean. I've dealt with worse."

Dean cocked an eyebrow, and got out of the car. Cas followed suit, and once Sam had gotten his backpack on again, they made their way inside.

Cas had never been to a resturaunt like this before, where neon lights wound around the ceiling and a bright red countertop blocked the kitchen off from the rest of the shop. 

Dean strode up to the cash register, where a middle-aged man wearing a red apron and a paper hat smiled and greeted him.

"Hey, Cas, what did you want?"

"Umm... I don't have any money, Dean." Cas replied, a little disappointed he hadn't decided to grab some cash that morning.

"S'okay, I got it. What do you like on your burgers?"

Cas opened and closed his mouth a few times, embarrassed that this was something he had to think hard about. Dean gave him a small smile over his shoulder before telling the man at the counter, "yeah, he'll have everything."

Dean balanced the meals on two trays as he brought them over to the table where Cas and Sam had sat down already. He placed a cheeseburger, plain, and a chocolate milkshake in front of Sam, and slid a burger, fries, and a soft drink towards Cas, who looked down at it apprasingly.

"Don't tell me you've never had a burger before." Dean said, dipping a fry in ketchup and shoving it in his mouth.

Cas shrugged. "Never like this, no."

Dean's mouth dropped open. "Then what are you waiting for. It's good, trust me."

Cas took the burger carefully in his hands and brought it to his mouth, opening wide and, good Lord, how had he never had one of these before? Warm, juicy, and cheesy, with crunchy pickles and a spicky kick, dear God this was amazing...

Cas could hear Dean laughing, and saw him smiling when he opened his eyes.

"It's a burger, Cas, not an orgasm. Tone it down."

"Dean!" Sam chided.

But Cas wasn't listening. Dean was joking, sure, but something about the thought of him having, what? Done something that seemed sexual in front of Dean? It made him feel... not embarrassed. There was a word for...

"You're losing it, dude."

Cas looked down. Dean was right, he was losing his burger. Sliding right out from inside the bun. Cas laughed shortly before putting the whole thing down and changing his focus to the fries.

Dean mostly talked to Sam about what he did at school while they ate, occasionally turning back to Cas and filling him in on little details about their life.

"We used to live closer to our schools, but the house burnt down when we were young so we had to move."

Dean explained briefly. He seemed fairly nonchalant sounding at the comment. Cas couldn't help but think he had heard about the fire, somehow, but he didn't press the subject, no matter how casual Dean had come across.

"Our dad's a mechanic so he's not even off work until seven, not home 'till past midnight some days, from the bar."

"My father is at work a lot, too, since he owns the church and everything. He usually comes home for dinner but sometimes he can't make it." Cas offered of his own family. It was hardly comperable to Dean and Sam's situation, but Cas felt bad taking in so much about someone else's life without offering anything in return.

As they were getting ready to leave, Sam hopped off to go to the washroom, leaving Dean and Cas on their own a few minutes.

"Why didn't you want to go home?" Dean asked, as soon as Sam was out of earshot.

"When Luce plays his music that loud, he's pissed. And Gabriel was home so they were probably just going to be fighting. Anna went to her friend's house after school today, so I didn't have to worry about her, so I just..."

"Didn't want to get caught in the crossfire?"

"Yeah..." Cas absentmindedly rubbed his arm, in the place where he had been brusied last time he had been in the 'crossfire.' Dean followed his hand for a moment before his eyes flickered back up to Castiel's face. There was something different about them now, as if they were really trying to read Cas now. It took a few moments for Dean to speak again, and in the silence between thoughts, Cas found himself worrying that Dean would think less of him if he knew he let his brothers beat him up. Instead, all Dean asked was, 

"Does your dad say anything about their fights?"

"Just yells at them. Tells them that he's tired, and done so much already that they should be responsible for themselves."

"Sounds great."

"I love my father, I do. And he does work hard. But it makes me so angry that he doesn't do anything about it. For someone who's supposed to be a priest, sometimes I think he's a pretty crappy person." Cas tugged at his sleeve as the words rushed out. It was foolish to tell someone so much, but he had never had the chance to just put it out in the open before. Dean was the first person to ever really listen to him.

"I wish I could help, Cas. Really. Best I can do is tell you I'm talking to my uncle about taking off to live with him in South Dakota. I'd bring Sam, and if you wanted to, you - hey Sammy, ready to hit the road?"

Sam had returned from the bathroom, and that meant it was time to go. Outside, the clouds had entirely enveloped the sky, and Cas felt a few raindrops fall on him as the three of them walked back into the parking lot. Cas let Sam sit shotgun this time, and once Dean had turned the radio off, it was a quiet ride back to Cas's house, save for the rain that soon began pounding off the windows.

When they pulled up, Gabriel's car was gone again, and Lucifer's window was closed. Dean drove up onto the driveway and turned to face Cas in the backseat.

"What I said back there, think about it, okay? I know it's pretty sudden but I hate to see people living like shit so just... keep it in the back of your mind."

Cas nodded and said "thank you." He wasn't quite sure what he was thanking Dean for, but he said it anyways.

Once he was out of the car, Cas rushed up the steps to his front door and turned back to look at the impala, which was still loitering on the driveway. Dean gave him a wave that Cas returned before turning the knob of his front door and stepping into the warm foyer.

"Close the door, Castiel. It's cold out!" A voice came from the living room.

"Yes, father." Cas closed the door and locked it and then took off his shoes. He thought he heard Lucifer yell that he "prefered it cold, not that anyone cares," but ignored him. 

Castiel headed straight upstairs to his room, closing that door behind him as well, to block out the newly initiated argument between Lucifer and his father. All the while he thought of what Dean had said. About getting away from this whole thing. Going off on his own for good. Because Dean had brought up a good point - something Cas had never really wanted to admit to himself.

He was living like shit, hiding away from his family like this. Constantly worried about not only protecting himself, but his little sister from harm in their own home. It was no way to live. And here was Dean, out of nowhere, like an angel, giving him this glimmer of hope that maybe he could get out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh yes the famed Uncle Bobby, who you may be hearing more from later on.
> 
> Also after checking some maps and local sites, I've decided that I'd prefer taking liberties to being accurate, so the Lawrence, Kansas of this story is fairly different from the real world one. 
> 
> And yeah I'm pretty much just going to say Cas's dad is actually named Chuck.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a shorter one, I think. The next part should be up pretty soon.

When Dean and Sam arrived home, they were suprised to see that their father was already there. Dean caught the first glimpse of him from the kitchen entrance, and immediately told Sam to go do his homework, because if John Winchester skipped a Monday Night Football game at the bar, something was wrong.

"You took the car." Were the first words out of his dad's mouth.

"Yeah, Sam was running late, and it was the fastest way to get-"

"That's my car, if you're forgetting, boy."

"Well I know that, but-"

"No excuses. You better be glad I'm fucking exhausted, kid, because I am pissed. Know you're walking the rest of the week."

"But Sam's got-" Dean pleaded.

"No buts. Now leave me alone."

"Fine, whatever." Dean turned to leave, but John called him back.

"What did you say?"

There was a pause. Dean had always hated this. His dad treated him like he was still in the Marines. So here he was, in his own home, being forced to stand at attention and cover up what he had said.

"Nothing, sir."

His own father, a "sir." How was that fair?

"Didn't think so. Get."

With the barked order, Dean was dismissed. He shuffled into his room and lay down on his bed. What he had started telling Cas was true. Soon as he was 18, it was off to South Dakota. He'd even take the impala if he needed to. Sure he'd always listened to his dad's orders, and sure, he might have meant well, but Dean knew damn well how much his father had screwed him up. He didn't want that happening to Sam. 'Well that's ironic,' he mused. Everything he was plotting, well, it was kind of on his dad's orders after all, since Dean's job had always been to take care of Sam. Any way he played it in his mind, that was what this was all about.

And now with Cas thrown into the mix... What was he supposed to do? This wasn't some rag-tag gang of homeless kids he was looking to put together. He barely even knew the guy. What if he told someone, and it got out? What if Dad found out?

Shit. No. That would never - Cas wouldn't. 

Unable to justify that comfort, Dean rolled off his bed and pulled open his nightstand drawer. Inside were two items - a walkman that he tossed over to land with his school junk, and a picture that he picked up with more care.

It wasn't framed, and the edges were worn and bent from when it used to be under his pillow, but the faces were still clear. Dean, at four years old, all pudgy and freckly, holding a tiny baby wrapped in a blanket - that was Sam. Behind them stood Dean's father, younger and with much fewer lines crossing his face, and a woman. Blond and beautiful, smiling so damn brightly that Dean still didn't quite understand why she wasn't still smiling now.

It pissed him off. Beyond belief, it pissed Dean off that Mary Winchester would never smile again. That she was dead. That she had died and that she left behind her boys with a broken man who could barely take care of himself and a shitty old car and no house because the fire that had taken her had taken their house with it. 

"It's gonna be okay."

He didn't know who he was talking to. It was garunteed that they couldn't hear him. And it really didn't help at all. But for some reason, Dean sat there for God only knows how long, holding the old picture and taking to no one - anyone.

"It's gonna be okay. We're gonna be okay."

*

Halfway through the walk to school the next morning, Dean put Sam up on his shoulders and carried him a while before dumping him at the corner across from the Junior High because "no one would leave me alone if they knew my brother carried me to school!"

Dean shrugged and ruffled Sam's hair before saying, "I think they'd just be jealous you've got such an awesome brother."

Sam laughed and Dean could have sworn he'd caught a "yeah, right." as Sam ran off.

The morning passed quickly, and at lunch, instead of meeting up with Jo and Ash, Dean set off to find Cas.

He never saw him in the Cafeteria... did he? Thinking back to yesterday, he didn't recall seeng Cas at all during lunch, so Dean decided to check outside. There were some nice benches and stuff out back, or there was always the courtyard.

It didn't take Dean long to find Cas, who was sitting alone under a tree, an old brown coat spread out beneath him.

"If I knew it was a picnic, I woulda brought pie." Dean said, sitting down on the ground next to Cas.

"Hello." Cas said, playing with the straw on his juice box.

"Listen, about what I said yesterday..." Dean started, but Cas cut him off.

"You were right. My family aren't good people. But I don't know if leaving is the right thing to do, you know? I've got Anna."

Dean shrugged. He was afraid of this, but he had to act casual. Cas was probably majorly freaked out that someone had even suggested anything like that, and - "No problem. Just thought I'd tell you, I guess." He found himself saying.

Cas nodded slowly, and then they fell into a silence. Dean felt horribly awkward as they sat there, and fished around for something to say that wouldn't freak the guy out even more.

"I..." He started. Cas looked up.

"I got music." Dean finished, reaching into his bag to pull out the walkman and some CDs he had found. "Here." He passed Cas one of the earbuds and pressed the 'play' button, not checking to see what CD was in there. Cas listened to it for a few seconds before his brow creased with confusion. Dean grabbed the other ear bud and stuck it in, leaning closer to Cas so as not to rip out his.

"I know you're hurt too, but what else can we do?

Tormented and torn apart..."

Dean's eyes widened as he realised what was playing. And that it sounded like he was intentionally playing something that related to their situation.

"Umm..." He grabbed the ear bud from Cas, trying to find an excuse. He wanted to give Cas cool music to listen to, not his stupid guilty pleasure mix CD. "That's Sam's!" He finally said. Cas looked him over for a moment and said,

"I liked it."

Dean felt like he had turned fifty shades of pink at the comment. Cas tilted his head and Dean covered his mouth with one hand while holding the ear bud back out.

"Here." He said, trying to cover his entire face. Shit, shit, shit. Why couldn't it have been Metallica? No, it just had to be a love song. A love song that he, if only momentarily, had associated with Cas. They listened to the rest of it in silence, before the track skipped over to the next song - a more appropriate song for Dean's image. With Zeppelin playing now, Dean pulled a pencil and paper out of his bag and wrote down:

"MUSIC FOR CAS:  
ALL OUT OF LOVE"

The rest of the hour passed in a similar fashion. Sometimes, Cas's face would light up as he declared he "knew this song, from the radio.," and Dean would write it down, while other times looking away and mumbling that he "didn't enjoy it."

Dean wouldn't hold any grudges over Cas's music tastes, though. At least they weren't as awful as others', he thought, remembering an ex-girlfriend who only ever listened to country.

At the end of the period, Dean tore the list out of the notebook he was writing in and gave it to Cas. 

"Here." He said, thrusting it at him.

Cas took the list and folded it up carefully. He was just about to put it in his pocket when Dean grabbed his wrist.

"Sorry. But I thought instead of just leaving you to hunt this stuff down, I could make a mix CD? If you've got an iPod or something you could put it on that after... 'Stead of paying, y'know."

Cas shook his head. "I never got an iPod. But I have a CD player at home... A mix would be nice." He smiled.

Dean took the paper back and shoved it in his coat pocket. He hoped he had some blank CDs at home somewhere so he could work on it when school let out. Something to get his mind off the stupid stuff he had said the day before, and off his father. Dean had learned a long time ago that staying out of everyone's way would help minimize conflicts.

He admitted, though, as he was walking to fifth period, that perhaps his motivations weren''t entirely selfish. He liked Cas, he really did. And he thought the guy could use something to take his mind off what he dealt with - the exact specifics of which, still remained a mystery.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot happens in this chapter. Castiel has much to deal with.

To walk from his house to Cas's was a little too far to be an option, so at seven o'clock that night, Dean grabbed some change from his wallet and headed out to catch a bus. Sam had walked home on his own, and since their dad wouldn't be home for at least a few more hours, Dean had no problem leaving the kid at home, as long as the doors were locked.

With the CD tucked into his coat pocket, Dean rode the bus across a fair bit of the town before getting to a stop fairly close to where he remembered Cas living. He walked through the playground area and up the street to find that little white house with the green door. Along with the red Camaro, a kind of rusted stationwagon sat on the driveway now. Dean silently hoped Cas would open the door because the last thing he wanted was to be greeted by, well. anyone else.

He knocked hesitantly on the door and waited. He could hear something going on inside, and after bouncing on his toes for a while, wondering if anyone had even heard him knock, the door opened. Cas stood there, looking a little odd in old sweats and a baggy t-shirt.

"Hello sir, do you have a moment to-"

Cas pulled Dean inside without letting him finish his sentence.

"Not here." He hissed. "Everyone's home."

Dean widened his eyes and looked around. The living room looked deserted.

"Come on. Follow me." Cas led Dean out of the foyer and up the staircase that was in front of them. There was a short hallway at the top, where Cas led Dean to the second door on the left, which he opened quietly, and ushered Dean inside.

"What's with the stealth, Cas?"

"I told you. Everyone's home."

As if on cue, a voice shouted from downstairs, "who was at the door Castiel?"

"No one, father!" Cas shouted down.

Cas crossed the room to where Dean was now sitting on Cas's bed, which, it shocked Dean to notice, was a complete mess. Dean pulled out the CD and gave it to Cas, who turned it over in his hands.

"That was fast." He mused.

Dean shrugged. "Got a lotta free time."

Cas ran a finger over the words scribbled in permanant marker on the disc.

'DEAN'S PERSONAL MIX.'

"But..." Cas said, looking up at Dean. "This is your CD - from lunch."

"I wrote over it. Couldn't find an empty disc so... It still works fine."

Cas couldn't help but be bothered by the fact that Dean would give up his own mix for him... And maybe he was letting it show because Dean stood up and looked at him.

"Don't be so concered, dude. 'S just a CD."

Cas placed it gingerly on the bed beside him. "Shh..." He reminded Dean. He wasn't supposed to be here.

"Oh. Yeah." Dean whispered, but it was too late.

"Cassie, who are you talking to?"

Great. Gabriel had heard them, and was probably... Yeah.

The door swung open and Dean and Cas pivoted on the spot to see Gabriel standing in the door frame, looking a little confused. The confusion, however, quickly turned to a mischevious glint in his eye.

"This your boyfriend, Cas?" Gabriel asked, strolling in.

"Please leave." Cas stood stock still, watching his brother cross to stand beside Dean.

"Oh, don't worry Cas. I won't tell anyone." Gabriel smirked.

"Please leave." Cas repeated. He could feel his face heating up to a million degrees and didn't know if he would yell or cry first. Gabriel continued his game, pacing around Dean.

"He's kinda cute, I guess. You're good Cas, I didn't even know you were fooling around with someone, let alone a dude."

At this, Cas was paralyzed, compeltely horrified that Gabriel was going to lose him the only friend he had ever made. What he wasn't expecting, however, was what happened next. Dean made to grab Gabriel by the collar of his shirt, but Gabe ducked and let Dean flounder a moment before taking a deep breath and shouting, 

"DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!"

With a horrified look on his face, and the tightest knot he had ever felt in his stomach, Castiel felt a tear slip out of his eye. This was it. He was doomed.

There were footsteps coming up the stairs at a run, and soon, much too soon, Castiel's father was standing in the doorway.

"What is going on here?" He asked, and Cas couldn't tell if he was frantic or angry or both or something else entirely. Then his father's eyes landed on Dean.

"Who are you?" He demanded. Dean didn't even flinch. 

"Dean Winchester, sir."

"He's Cassie's bo-"

"Gabriel, leave."

Gabe shot a nasty look over his shoulder at his brother and Dean as he left. He had started the problem, though, and Cas knew that meant his older brother would be hiding 'round the closest corner, listening for the fallout.

"Father, I-" Cas tried to say something, but he didn't know what there was to say. He had been caught lying red handed, and what was more, his dad might actually believe Dean was his boyfriend.

"No, Castiel. Don't. There's nothing you can say. See, I don't know what to do with you. I don't know what's wrong with you." He paused. "You haven't been doing anything I've   
asked of you these past two days, and now you're lying to me, too?"

Cas started again, but barely got out a sylable before his father continued. "I'm working extremely hard for this family, and you know that. I deserve some honesty. Now what is going on here?"

"Dean's my friend. He just came over to give me a CD and-"

"He's your friend?"

"Yes, I told you that alre-"

"You're not gay."

Cas wrinkled his brow. That was a strange way to approach the topic. Then again, he never quite knew what to expect from his father.

"I'm..." Cas started.

"It wasn't a question. Dean, I suggest you leave now." His father's voice was dangerous now. If Dean didn't live with his own father, it might have scared him.

Dean made a meaningful look at Cas as he walked out, hoping his father wouldn't see him mouth 'playground?' as he brushed past the man and headed down the stairs.

Back in his room, Cas was near full-out sobbing. Sure, his father had stayed calm while there was company but now... well, Cas had no idea what to expect.

"You LIED to me, Castiel? What else have you done?"

"Nothing, I haven't done anything wrong." Cas insisted.

"Haven't done anything - Castiel, you're a disgrace! You are nowhere near what you are supposed to be. You're supposed to be a good son, but... I don't even know if you're   
going to be taken into Heaven."

The words hurt more than any fist Cas could have expected. He dropped his gaze to the floor, and took a few shallow breaths.

"Are you hearing me, Castiel?" Cas felt his father pulling at his arm. Without thinking, he ripped it away, and shouted back, "I don't CARE about Heaven, father! You do. All my   
life, it's just been your beliefs projected onto me because I'm the one you could control. But it's not that simple any more, because Dean showed me I have my own will."

"Dean hasn't shown you anything but a path to Hell, Castiel. Never see him again and it will be for the better."

"You can't make me stop. You don't control who I see, or what I do..." Castiel didn't quite know where he was going with this, but tears were stinging in his eyes and he coudn't think straight and god DAMN it he just wanted to make his father mad. "Or who I love."

His father's face went blank. With no emotion he raised his arm and pointed at the door.

"Get out."

"Daddy?"

What his father hadn't noticed, and what brought even more tears to Cas's eyes, was that Anna was standing in the doorway behind her father. She was in a little night dress and held a stuffed bear. The picture of innocence. How was it fair she ened up here of all places? Castiel thought.

Their father's arm dropped and he turned to his daughter.

"Is Castiel leaving?" She asked, wide-eyed.

"I..."

For the first time that evening, he was silent. Anna ran past him to hug Cas's leg. He put a hand in her hair.

"No, he's not. Lord have mercy on his soul."

Their father turned his back on them and, headed back downstairs. There was a shout of, "Gabriel, get back to your room!" and then all was quiet. They stood there for a moment before Cas knelt down beside his sister. He kissed her on the forehead and with a hollow voice mumbled, "thank you. Now go to bed, okay?"

Anna nodded and left, closing the door behind her. Castiel sat down on his bed and let his hand grope for the CD. When he found it, he tossed it onto his small desk and lay down, putting his face into his pillow. Cas wasn't quite sure how long he spent like that, too tired to cry, too confused to sleep.

He had never imagined coming out to his father would have ended like this. Then again, he had always had a contorted view of how his father thought of things. One day it was "love thy neighbour," the next, "the whole lot of them disgust me." How would things work now? What would his brothers do to him? Cas found himself curling into a ball at the thought of Gabriel outing him to others as a joke. It was cold, but Cas couldn't move to get a blanket. He couldn't move, couldn't think, could barely breath with his face stuffed into a pillow and when he heard a knock at his window, he didn't even turn to see the figure pulling it open and coming inside.

'Maybe they're a murderer... Maybe I'll die...' 

Castiel supposed that might not be so bad right now. Instead of a gun, however, a warm hand pressed onto Cas's shoulder. Not sure what he was doing, Cas let it happen - let Dean crawl into his room from the roof, let him pull him upright, let him wrap his arms around him. Finally let the tears start falling. Cradled in Dean's arms, sobbing and sniffling against his leather-clad shoulder while the other boy simply held him there. Neither of them stopped to think what would happen if someone opened the door to find them, and Cas almost broke a smile to think that Dean probably wouldn't give a shit. 

After what seemed like hours, Cas pushed himself off of Dean and wiped his eyes on his arm.

"I didn't know." Dean whispered.

"No one did. I guess... Well I was too scared to tell anyone." Cas choked out, trying to keep quiet.

"Yeah. I can see why." Dean said, distracting himself by pulling at a loose thread on his shirt.

"I hope..." Cas started, fearing the worst, "I hope you don't feel any differently. About me."

Dean looked up. He looked confusesd. "Why would I?"

Cas felt relieved. "I just thought finding out your friend had a crush on you, it must not be-" He started to ramble.

"Wait, what?" Dean said, the confusion in his eyes deepening.

"I-" Cas stood up, holding up his hands, as if to try convincing Dean he wasn't a threat. He had said to much, damn it. All that fear that his family would ruin his friendship, and he had done the deed himself. Cas's stomach twisted in a way that made him think that perhaps he was going to pass out. Or thow up. Or both.

Backed up against his desk, Cas stood with his mouth half open, trying to find something to say. There were no words. Suddenly, Dean's voice broke the silence. It was soft, not nearly as disgusted as Cas had expected.

"Cas... You're in love with me?"

Not seeing any other way out, Cas kept his eyes on his shoes and nodded ever-so-slightly. The only sound he heard for the longest time was his father's snoring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to say I know you're never supposed to apologize for art, but... I am ridiculously sorry. So much happens here that I initially didn't plan on, and it got away from me. I also want to mention that Cas's dad is in fact "Chuck Shurley" in a sense. I know Rob's not the most imposing figure, but is there really any other choice for the angels' father than God himself?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot to work through, and it isn't as easy as it sounds.

Dean had never had an out of body experience before, but this must've been what it felt like. Usually when he asked people... girls... if they were interested in him it was more in the interest of trying to hook up in the janitor's closet as soon as he could, but that sure as hell never made him feel like this. Like he was floating. Or that his insides had turned to liquid. Or jelly. Whatever that feeling was. It wasn't something he could say was pleasent, but it wasn't because he was disgusted or offended in the least. No, this was something worlds away from that. This was... nerves. Dean was nervous that Cas would reject him! That Cas would change his mind and chicken out and they would never speak of this again and Dean would never be able to look at him because all he could see would be what would have happened if Cas had said...

"I think so."

He thinks so? Well, he'd done it for less. Dean was trying to meet Cas's eyes, but was having a hard time because they were pointed determinatley at the floor. 

"I'm sorry, I know you wouldn't-" Cas mumbled to his feet.

"No, I'm not- well, yes, I mean that... son of a bitch."

At a loss for words, Dean closed the gap between them, pulling Cas into another hug, this one being less about comfort and more trying to get across what Dean couldn't seem to put out in words. Dean felt Cas's arms move to hover near Dean's waist. Trying not to shock him, Dean loosened his grip and Cas found himself resting his hands on Dean's waist. Dean smirked at his friend... boyfriend(?)'s hesitancy, but when Cas finally let his head fall onto Dean's shoulder, resting his chin in the crook of his neck, he couldn't help but smile all out. Cas's hair smelled of shampoo, sweet and fruity, inviting Dean to bury his face in the soft black hair. Relaxing into the embrace, Dean dropped his hands to Cas's lower back, and Cas leaned back to finally look at Dean.

"So you're okay with this?" Cas whispered, concern etched into his features.

"More than." Dean smiled reassuringly, before stepping away from Cas and toward the window, which   
he stuck one leg out, before leaning inside for a last word.

"See you at school tomorrow, Cas."

Now that he had looked Dean in the eye, it was as if he couldn't fix his gaze anywhere else. He nodded and watched Dean slide out the window and off the roof, hearing his feet hit the pavement. 

Outside, the sky was dark, but Dean was in no rush to get home. Instead, he walked down the street to the playground, where he took a seat on one of the swings. Kicking his feet in the sand, he starting swinging, hearing the wind whistle in his ears. He was trying to think straight about what had just happened, but all he could focus on were the places where Cas had touched him. Chin on shoulder. Hands on waist. In his hyperawareness, the skin on those spots tingled.

By the time the streetlights flickered to life, Dean had moved from the swing to a park bench, where he lay down. His procrastination in going home was starting to bother him. Shouldn't he get back to Sam? But when he got home, he would have to tell his dad where he had been, and even though Dean knew there wasn't a damn thing wrong with it, he wasn't very pleased with the idea of facing his father given what had just happened. That he was... Well there it was. He was interested in Cas. Cas, with his soft black hair and bright blue eyes... 

Dean had never considered what his dad thought of being gay. He had never needed to. He didn't even know if he needed to now. Was he even gay? Shit, before he had met Cas it was so easy. He knew he liked chicks. He thought he still did, so what was this?

When the first raindrop hit Dean's forehead, he decided he was just going to suck it up and go home. His dad didn't need to know any of this. Hell, neither did Sammy. Or anyone, for that matter. This   
would be his little secret.

*

Dean's little secret didn't bother him at all the rest of the night, nor the next morning. It wasn't until he was walking down the main hallway of the high school with Jo the next afternoon, when it really came back to him.

"QUESTIONING?"

A rainbow poster stuck to the guidence counsellor's door jumped out at Dean for the first time. 

Completely abandoning his desicion to 'just not talk about it,' Dean turned to Jo.

"Hey, I'll catch up with you after school, okay?"

Jo shrugged. "Yeah, sure. But if you're gonna skip math, I'm not sharing notes with you."

"I'll live." Dean said. Jo waved goodbye as she turned and kept walking down the hallway. Once she had turned the corner, and after checking that no one could see him, Dean slipped into the counsellor's office.

A secretary in a pink button down shirt sat behind a small reception desk, cluttered up with pamphlets.

"Do you have an appointment, hun?" She asked, looking up when Dean came in.

"Uh, no. I just... Gotta talk." He said, hoping that would be sufficient.

"Give me a second."

The secretary stood up and walked around the desk. She was skinny, red headed, and, Dean noticed, had a really nice butt.

That meant he still liked girls, right?

Shaking off the thought, he occupied himself instead with the pamphlets on the desk.

"STDs." One of them read. Got that covered.

"HELP! MY PARENTS ARE GETTING DIVORCED." No trouble there.

"Okay, we can fit you in right now if you like. What was your name, hun?"

Dean looked back up to see the secretary back at her desk. He gave her the bare minimum of information possible, and when she finished the speech on "confidentiality" (Something that made Dean feel comforted enough to feel like he could really talk about this), and lead him down the hallway to a small room, Dean felt alright to just crash onto the couch that took up one wall because in that moment he actually felt like he might be able to figure out what was going on.

The counsellor seated across from him was a plump, middle aged woman with dark and curly black hair. She watched Dean fall onto the couch and streach out, kicking his boots up onto the little coffee table.

"You're Dean?" She asked. Her voice was like honey. It reminded Dean of that lady from Harry Potter... the pink one that Sam hated. Dean nodded.

"I'm Mrs Scott, and I'm going to listen to what you have to say, then maybe we can work out what it is we can do to fix it, okay?" She spelled it out condescendingly, and the more Mrs Scott spoke, the more Dean knew he was going to have to figure this one out on his own.

Dean shrugged.

"So, what is it you wanted to talk about, Dean?"

"I like girls." Dean opened. Mrs Scott smiled.

"That's normal, though, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Dean agreed. "But the thing is, I like guys too. Or, well, a guy."

Mrs Scott's eyes widened. It was then that Dean noticed the cross that hung on her neck. Shit, it was just his luck. The woman went to Cas's family's church for all he knew.

"Some boys your age go through a phase, Dean. Don't be worried about-"

Dean tuned her out immediately. He didn't know much about what was happening, but he knew damn well it wasn't a phase. This lady couldn't do anything for him, he was back to square one. God, how he hated living in such a fucking religious town. Everything was God this, the bible that. Even the reason he and Cas had met was because of it. Through his thoughts he caught snippets of what Mrs Scott was saying. "Grow out of - nothing to worry about - won't last the school year - against what God-"

"Screw God." Dean muttered.

"Sorry, dear?"

"Screw. God." Dean said, standing up. "Screw him. And you. You and your BS. You can't even tell me it's okay, can you? You can't tell me anything except that it's not real, that it's not good. Well, screw that." Dean swung open the door, and stormed out of the office, tears burning in his eyes. He had been wrong. He didn't need some counsellor to tell him it was okay to be in love with Cas. No one needed to tell him that because he didn't give a damn what they thought. It was his life, and god damn it, he could be whatever the hell he wanted.

And he wanted to be in love with Castiel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I never thought that Dean would have a really easy time with his sexuality, especially given his dad and all that. So forgive me if you thought he would just be cool with it and that he and Cas would just start making out already (trust me, I wish I could make that happen quicker... It'll come).
> 
> Ahh and um I've had nothing but a bad time with counsellors so here we have just that. I'm sure there are good ones out there but they remain illusive to me.
> 
> I had trouble ending this one, but I feel like we got from point A to point B, so that's good.
> 
> Thank you for the feedback on the last chapter, I'm glad it flowed well. And I apologize for the wait, but, y'know, school.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a trigger warning for some homophobic language/violence. Just thought I'd drop the warning.

Lucifer had driven Cas to school that morning. It was a rare occurence, but given the falling out of the previous night, Luce was the only one willing to even look at Castiel in the morning. He didn't talk, just grit his teeth and drove in silence, parking outside the school lot and unlocking the doors so Cas could get out.

"Thanks." Cas muttered.  
Lucifer shrugged.

Cas walked around the hood of the car and was almost to the sidewalk when he heard Lucifer call after him.

"I don't care, y'know. And you did good, standing up to Dad."

Before Cas could turn and formulate a reply, Lucifer was driving off.

*

Cas didn't see Dean at all that morning, and was beginning to think that he regretted what had happened, and was never going to see him again, when he stopped dead in the hallway to see someone storming out of the guidance councellor's office covering their face with their hand. It was Dean.

He wasn't sure what to do in that moment, so Cas ended up simply following Dean quietly around the corner and hoping he would stop.

Finally, Dean made a sharp turn into the boys' washroom, and barked at the two freshmen leaning on the counter to "get out!"

When they had left, Dean let his arm drop and met Cas's stare. His eyes were red and his cheeks were stained with tears. Cas was hesitant to move, but when Dean didn't recoil at the first step, Cas closed the distance between them, putting a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Funny... you did this for me last night."

Dean sniffled. Cas thought it might have been a laugh, but now that he had said it, he didn't really recall what was so funny about their reversed positions. Instead of continuing to speak, Cas pulled a tissue from his jacket pocket and raised it up for Dean to see. He didn't grab for it, rather, Dean inclined his head forward, as if telling Cas to go ahead. With an unsteady hand, Cas brought the tissue to Dean's face, using it as the only barrier between his thumb and the warm, soft skin he was running it over. Cas's breathing, too, now was uneven, and he could feel Dean's hands wrapping around him. His hand fell from Dean's shoulder to rest on his back, and with his other hand, he let the tissue barrier fall.

"You still believe in God, Cas?"

Cas hummed a quiet "mm-hmm."

"Tell him from me that he's full of shit." 

Cas's brow furrowed. Dean continued, "that maybe he should keep a better eye on how awful and downright bitchy some of his followers are." Cas started to say something, but Dean cut him off.

"And that..." Dean tightened his grip on Castiel, pulling him closer, "he can butt the hell out of my lovelife."

With the request, Dean planted a kiss on Castiel's cheek. It was quick, and the location wasn't quite on-target, but it was a kiss. Dean's lips on Cas's skin, lighting it up and setting it on fire. In a daze, Cas nodded. The hand that had held the tissue darted back up to Dean's face, and he cradeled his cheek, wiping away the wet track that a tear had left. Dean leaned into the touch, and once the tear was gone, Cas let his hand move back into Dean's short hair, pulling their faces close enough to have the tips of their noses touching. It was more intimate than Castiel had ever been with someone, but something about Dean made it feel completely normal, not at all out of place.

"I'll see what I can do."

Overcome with a new sense of confidence, Castiel tilted his head to the side slightly, preparing to do something he had been thinking about, very seriously, since the night before.

That's when the bathroom door opened.

*

The secretary had called John at work, which meant that on top of the black eye he was already sporting, Dean would have some extra bumps and bruises in the morning. Dean had taken the brunt of the violence, but Cas, who was seated next to him in the office, had at least a bad nosebleed. Alistair, the guy who had walked in on Dean and Cas's almost-kiss, had a lump on his head from Dean knocking him into the counter, and more than enough brusies to keep him in pain for the next month.

The school nurse was livid, but her shocked rage at three students managing to beat the crap out of each other was nothing compared to the silent anger of the principal, Ms Moseley. She sat with the boys to ensure no further violence, watching them from her big leather chair on the other side of the desk. None of the boys could meet her eye.

When Alistair's mother arrived, she was dressed in the generic green scrub of a nurse. She and the principle were conversing quietly in the corner when John Winchester stepped through the door.

Dean's stomach twisted into knots. His father was dressed in his grimy work clothes, and it looked as if a wrench was tucked into his leather jacket's pocket. Dean could only see it as a weapon.

"Mr Winchester." Ms Moseley said, turning away from Alistair's mother.

"Prinicpal Moseley."

"Please, Missouri."

After pleasentries had been exchanged, they got down to business.

"Now, you were told on the phone that the boys had gotten into a bit of a fight."

"A bit!" Scoffed the nurse, from the corner.

Ms Moseley resumed, "a bit of a fight. We're all here to get to the bottom of why something like this would have happened, and to work out the appropriate punishment for the   
actions."

John, who had placed himself right in Dean's line of sight, put his hands in his pockets. Dean's breath hitched.

"Do any of you three want to explain what happened?"

Dean and Cas exchanged glances. They had already agreed not to talk. Alistair, however, seemed more than eager to spill.

"These two were doing something really bad, okay. So I stepped in to stop it and Dean flips his shit on me, right? So I gotta fight back, 'cos it's only fair. Then this kid gets involved, comes at me... I hit my head when he pushed me over."

"Language, Mr Rolston. You say Mr Winchester started the fight? Dean?"

Dean shrugged. "He came in, said some shi- stuff to me. We argued for a bit, but I don't really remember who threw the first punch."

Alistair jumped in again. "It was Dean. He did it."

Cas was still quiet, and Dean hoped he stayed that way. He was going to take the fall here, whatever it was. Cas was an honours student, Dean was halfway to being kicked out already. School was something he could afford to lose if he had to.

Ms Moseley nodded slowly. "Alright, then... I'll keep that in mind. Now boys, what exactly was it that was going on to set this whole thing off?"

There was silence again, punctuated by the ticking of the clock on the wall. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen seconds passed before John spoke up.

"Dean, what the fuck were you doing in there?" No one called out John on his language.

Dean stared at the floor. His heart was pounding in his throat, and he could feel his legs begin to shake.

"I'll tell you what he was doin'." That was Alistair. Dean was in full-fledged panic attack mode now, and he could barely hear what Alistair was saying to his father. Focusing all his energy on hearing, Dean heard the boy speak.

"He was kissin' Castiel."

Through the haze, Dean saw the self-satisfied smirk cross Alistair's face. That son of a bitch! Hearing what his father said next wasn't hard at all. A resounding, angry, "WHAT?" echoed in the office.

"I said..." Alistair started again, "that faggot was kissing Castiel."

In an instant, Dean was on top of Alistair again, hands clawing at any inch of skin he could reach. Alistair was screaming, but Dean couldn't hear what he was saying. The entire room was a dull roar of noise. All he could think of was that if he could just get the right hold on the little bastard, he could kick his ass into next week. After struggling for what felt like only seconds, but that was closer to a minute, Dean was suddenly aware that there was a pair of hands on his legs, and another one pulling at his shoulers, the scruff of his neck. And when he was finally pulled off Alistair, he found that it was his father's hands that were gripping him tight and pulling him towards the door.

"Mr Winchester, we haven't-" Mrs Moseley shouted after him from a place next to Alistair, whom she was assessing the damage of.

"Dean's not gonna be coming to school anymore." John said, dragging his resisting son out of the room by his arm.

The last thing Dean saw was Castiel standing beside his overturned chair, his shoulders slumped, blood still trickling from his nose and mingling with the tears that were dropping silently from his bright blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was initially two chapters, and it happened over a bit more time, but I ultimately landed on a nine or ten chapter plan so I had to condense. I think they still work as one chapter, though. I was trying to get it to a pretty intense point here, and hopefully that worked. I was initially pretty concerned about having both Cas and Dean's parents as not accepting, but hopefully there's enough difference in their negative reactions to make it acceptable. 'Sides, if they had been accepting, it wouldn't be much of a story, would it?
> 
> As for time frame, the story should be entirely wrapped up by mid-December at the very latest, fair warning.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See author's notes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for having been gone so long. I'm afraid I wrote myself into a bit of a corner and didn't have the courage to continue right away. As it were, this chapter is a bit short and contains some pretty intense trigger warnings.
> 
> TW: VIOLENCE/BEATING.  
> TW: HOMOPHOBIC LANGUAGE.
> 
> I tried writing around them but it just didn't work. Even still, I don't know if I quite gave the push Dean needed to get going in the chapter, but I tried my damndest.
> 
> Also, I think there's only going to be one more chapter after this. Kind of epilogue-y but not really?

The first blow didn't come as a shock.

It was only seconds after John Winchester had slammed the door that his open palm had made contact with Dean's face. Dean didn't betray himself by shouting in pain, but his arms felt like led, swaying uselessly at his sides, unable to throw a punch back, or even to simply block his face. 

"Aren't you going to fight me?" his father challenged him, landing another punch on Dean's arm. "Or are you too much of a girl, Dean?"

"Dad, please I-" Dean's voice snapped. He could feel hot tears burning behind his eyes. Not from the pain - this wasn't the first time John had raised his fist against his son - but because he felt absolutely stupid. Why had there ever been even an inkling of the thought that he could get out? There was no chance of that, not in lives like his.

"You couldn't be my son. Winchester boys ain't fags!" John held Dean's wrist in an iron grip as he railed on, but Dean could hardly hear him. All he saw in front of his eyes were those headlines that the teachers sometimes brought to class, or that he caught a glimpse of in the New York Times. A sixteen year old boy hanging himself after being outed. A kid no less than thirteen in California had put a bullet in his head not two months ago. That was where Dean was headed, wasn't it? Guys like him never got the happy ending.

John was twisting his wrist even harder now, and Dean was being pushed to face the opposite direction, where he could see the blinds were drawn. John had his hand in Dean's  
hair now, and was pulling his head back. Dean could smell beer on his breath.

"Are you in love with that boy?" John asked through gritted teeth. Dean knew there was no answer that would get him out of this.

"His name is Cas." The grip in his hair got tighter.

"I don't give a shit, are you fucking him?"

And then Dean started crying. John let go of him, and he dropped to the floor. As his father walked away, Dean heard him mutter some choice words about him, but didn't dare move. His face was aching, his head pounding, and the sound of the front door closing was almost to loud to handle. Dean dropped his head into his knees, content to let himself black out then and there. His solitude didn't last long, however, because he felt a hand on his shoulder. At first he thought it was his dad, ready to go another round, but the hand was too small and soft.

"Sammy?"

Dean's brother was crouched next to him, a look that could only be described as pure sadness and concern etched onto his face.

"You gonna leave?" Sam asked simply. Dean knew he was talking about his plan. The one he had told Cas about in the diner, what felt like years ago.

"I can't leave you here." Dean choked out, his voice barely audible, partly because he was so exhausted, and partly so their father wouldn't hear.

"I think uncle Bobby's got enough space for me. I'm not that big." Dean tried to smile, but he knew it wouldn't reach his eyes. He was still thinking about all the other stories he had heard, feeling completely hopeless. The look Sam was giving him, though, was a stronger motivator. Dean knew the kid would be better off somewhere else. Even if Bobby didn't want Dean under his roof, for whatever reason, he wouldn't turn Sam away. He knew the circumstances.

Mustering what strength he could, Dean put a hand on Sam's knee and said in his quietest voice yet, "get in the car." Sam nodded and grabbed his backpack as he headed back out the door. Then came the hard part.

Dean wasn't as wobbly as he expected when he stood up. It only took a moment to regain his balance, and with that, he darted into his room.  
Into his backpack he threw a couple pairs of pants, a few t-shirts, a comic book, and his walkman. There was still enough room left over to dart into Sam's room and toss in a couple of changes of clothes, too. He gingerly closed the door to Sam's room and made his way to the end of the hall - his most daring move yet. In his dad's room, there wasn't much. Dean only had two goals. The cash stockpile in the bottom drawer, where John kept his poker winnings. At least $900 in cash was piled up in there, and Dean took an even $600. And the keys to the Impala. He had just shoved them into his pocket when he heard footsteps. John was definately going to flip his shit if he found Dean, so without thinking, he hoisted himself up onto the window frame and swung his legs out. It was a two storey jump, but a bad fall was better than being stuck here having the shit beat out of him every day, Dean figured. He was out the window and crunched onto the ground before John had even seen him. Shaking off the newfound pain in his leg now, Dean ran around to the front of the house, where Sam was waiting in the car. Sliding into the drivers' seat, Dean started the engine with a roar, and peeled out of the driveway.

First stop: Cas' house.

Instead of going to the door, Dean climbed up onto the roof again, and knocked on Cas' window. Luckily, he was lying on his bed, reading. When Cas heard the knocking, he started, and rushed to open the window.

"Dean, you're hurt."

"Tell me something I don't know." For a moment, it looked as though Cas was actually trying to think of something. Dean shook his head. "Listen, I'm in a rush. But you know what I was saying, about getting out of here? Plans got changed and things happened, so I'm leaving now. Look, I get it if you don't wanna come, considering how much shit I've already gotten you into, but I figured I should at least tell you before I drop off the face of the earth."

"Dean, I-"

"No, I get it. You probably hate me now anyways. I'll just get out of here then." Dean threw his legs out the window again, preparing for the climb down the lattice.

"Dean, I need to pack a bag."

He froze. "You serious?"

"Extremely." Cas said.

"Hurry up then, the cops are gonna be out after me as soon as my dad figures it out. I'll be in the Impala." Cas nodded again, and Dean started his descent.

*

Cas' bag was packed and he was just about out the door when someone blocked his path.

"Lucifer, what are you-?"

"Shh, little bro." Lucifer said, putting his hand over Cas' mouth. "I'm just helping you out."

Cas wrinkled his brow but Lucifer only smirked. "Here." He said, pressing something into Cas's hand. A cell phone.

"It's an oldie, but it makes the call. You need anything, just call me. You've got balls, Cas. I respect that." 

Cas was dumbfounded. For a moment, he thought this was some kind of joke. That Gabriel and his father were going to appear from behind the sofa and make him stay. The phone was a tracking device. A bomb. But Lucifer would never help their father that way. When it came down to it, Luce was a rebel too. He'd never set him up.

"Thanks." Cas finally managed.

"No problem. Maybe I'll see you around, kid." He said, ruffling his little brother's hair and stepping out of the way of the door. "And I'll cover for you tonight." He shouted as Cas made his way off the porch. "Should get you a bit of a headstart."

Cas waved at his brother as he opened the back door and slid into the impala.

"He good?" Dean asked.

Cas hesitiated in thought a moment before nodding. "Yeah, he's good."

The front door closed as Dean pulled out of the driveway and sped down the road. In an hour, Cas knew they would be on the highway, and Lawrence would be just a speck on the horizon. His entire life would fade away into nothing, and a new one would open up in front of him. For a moment he felt sick, but then he heard the click of a tape cassette being shoved into the player, and an Air Supply song started playing. Cas saw Sam roll his eyes and focus out the window, but Dean turned around to look at Cas.

"You know the words?"

Cas nodded. Dean turned up the volume and started singing, inviting Cas to join in.

Their voices drowned out the engine, and with it, Cas's thoughts. He could see Dean; see his black eye and his bruised wrist, but none of that mattered. Because for the first time Cas could remember, Dean looked truly happy. Those scars were miles and miles away. Out here they were nothing, and they were free.

"I wish I could carry your smile in my heart,  
for times when my life seems so low,  
It would make me believe what tomorrow could bring  
When today doesn't really know,"

Dean's voice rose above the track to sing, "doesn't reeeeeeally know!"

Cas laughed at Dean's spirited rendition of the song, and even Sam joined in for the chorus. It was the most at ease Cas had felt in his entire life. Suddenly, the sick feeling was gone, replaced with a sort of wholeness, a satisfaction that he had never felt before. Leaning forward from the backseat, Cas managed to press a kiss to Dean's cheek.

"What's that for?" Dean asked, looking back at Cas, who shrugged.

"Just thanks."

For what?" 

Cas smiled. "You know... Everything."

**Author's Note:**

> I just came up with this AU on a whim and thought it would be really awesome idk. I've never really written a really dysfunctional family like Cas's is, so I haven't decided if that means I'll be spending more or less time at his house~ we'll see where this goes...


End file.
